Do not fall for my words
Do not admire my writing
And do not lust after my poetry
It is incapable
Of loving back

Love me instead.

Do not fall in love with me
I will turn every empty second into a overanalyzed thought
I will fill the spaces between our heartbeats with lovesongs emitted from my fingertips
I will make your words into poetry
Recite them over and over until they are tattooed on your skin
I will make your lips a sacred temple and send my prayers through kisses
Your body will become my garden where i will plant myself roots up
Intertwine my vines with yours
I will call you the sun
Your breath will become my air and I will use you to photosynthesize
I will forget that I am not a tree
And you are not my forest
I will forget that we are only human
So do not fall in love with me
Unless you are willing
To love the details.

While standing in the line to get inside,
the rain makes a surprise appearance
this may be one of the few time I don't mind it

I remember the first tuesday spent here
when my Chicago soul ended up on a Los Angeles street at the recommendation of a new friend and then
somehow ended up on stage

I don't recall details like I should but
the eager racing of my heart every time I walk through the door speaks volumes, says I know why you feel the way you do
that moment of hearing myself speak for the first time is still new

on the nights like this where I don't read
I still feel an energy that reminds me of a certain comfort
my hands still shake through the excitement of just existing

my stomach, a drain of stories, was used to swallowing whole without chewing
this is where I learned how to digest my past

I trade smiles with strangers who are just realizing their ability to do the same

if you were to ask anyone who has ever sat on this stage, in these seats, why they choose to join this cluttered convention of hearts in such a small space,
they would probably pause,
smile and answer something along the crooked lines of,
"you just have to be there to understand"

and you do
there is a magic in the air that you can't bottle
instead you hold your breath through a busy week to
make it to the next
in order to experience it again

there is no language that could describe this place where
we each speak our own yet somehow
still understand each other
this is the place I cannot put an adjective to,
there is no metaphor for what experience can offer

this is the place where my cheeks turn fire in the best way possible
the rhythm of my chest is faster than it is in fear, unexplainable

this is where my tuesday night becomes weekend
this is where my empty becomes whole
this is where Yesika forms full moons with her words and the softness of her voice echoes against the hollow of the theatre lights
this is where the power of black stories remind my whiteness how necessary vocality is
this is where I found myself bare under a spotlight for the first time over a year ago and
this is where I discovered that bareness doesn't have to be a bad thing

I know how it sounds
sitting on a stage in a dim room with strangers
listening for an hour and a half to a story that isn't yours but
the best way to find yourself is in the words of another
this is where I find myself
again and again
this is where I come whenever I am lost

If you were to ask me why
I could only say

you just have to be there
to understand.

I'll be honest
I'm not exactly sure how to write myself pretty
I don't think I'm capable of making desire out of words
Or forming the way I sound into something you would want to fall asleep to
I cannot mold my body into a figure that you would want next to yours for more than one night
I have more passion in myself than I know what to do with
I often give it out as hope for people to take in their hands, find something good in all of my chaos
Everyone always advises not to fall face first in love
Forgetting that the those who fall by accident
Often land the hardest
Hitting the ground full force
Cheek against the pavement
I was built with 206 bones in my body
And I will break all of them from my mistakes
Before I dare to stop falling
The crash is worth the high
Ask me every time when I am still hung over from yesterday
And I will always say yes
Having regrets has always seemed better
Than having nothing at all
I was born with steel layed out upon my chest
All of these attempts at language
Are done with the intention
Of removing some weight off of it
I have been made heavy by my own silence on too many occasions
At times I have been told not to speak
That my lips should be kept shut for protection
There are bolts on my jaw
My tongue is sandpaper
And I will risk grinding my teeth for the possibility of igniting a flame
Inside someone who has spent years trying to find a lit match
Let me be the thing that starts a fire
Rhyming doesn't always incite romance
But I can try my best
See the problem is that there are so many ways to say I love you
But not enough to make them love you
The problem is having a million things to say
And a million ways to say them
But not knowing the right way how to
There is no right or wrong here
Only hold back or release
So stutter instead of staying quiet
It is much more beautiful on paper
To disregard format, or style
And structure
I will mess up
As best as I can
And in the morning
Look at it again
Remember how it felt
To live
Then reread,
Review,
And edit.

I will love you without trying
Eyes closed, effortlessly
I will care too much
I will act like I don't at all
I will think about you more than I do myself
I will pretend that I'm not looking for anything
I will lie about the fact that I always am
I will tell you I'm okay
I will avoid admitting that I'm not
I will ask you how you are
I will actually care about your response
I will wait to respond to your text
I will make it seem like I am busy
I will not say I've been waiting
I will pay you more attention than I've ever gotten
I will give you all of me too easily
I will ask you what you need and be that
I will treat your smile like a privilege
I will want to play your laugh on repeat
I will admire it too much
I will try harder than I should
I will love you without trying
Eyes closed, effortlessly
And I will do it well.

You remember how it felt
To give yourself away
And receive nothing in return
All you ever wanted
Was to be wanted the same
You were only fourteen
When you gave everything you had
To someone you thought you loved
And it still wasn't enough
For him to love you back

You were just a kid
You're older now
And a lot has changed since
But somedays you feel almost the same as you did then
Surrounded by all of this emptiness
Gained from guarding your heart for so long
You learned how to cover up
How to build a cage within yourself
To keep everything inside
To keep your crooked from falling out
To keep your weakness from showing
And for the most part
It worked

But somedays
You still don't feel
Like you are capable of filling up the excess
Of vacant space
Like you are missing pieces
From the whole of yourself
Like you are lacking too many parts
In too many places
You could never quite satisfy anyone
Yourself included
You don't believe it
When someone tells you you're sufficient
You have never felt adequate
Never worthy
Or good
But I want you to know
That you are
That you have been
And you will always be
Enough.

I wonder if
You've forgotten me
Completely
If i am
Erased from your mind
Detached from your heart
Memories swiped of any trace of me
Or if
You remember
But you choose to forget
Because you don't care
Or maybe you never did
Maybe i was never good enough
For you
But for me
You were more enough
You were everything
And everything is harder to erase
Than nothing
To you i was nothing
I am nothing
So i am erased from your mind
Detached from your heart
And swiped from  your soul.

I still look for you
Everywhere
I am looking for myself
Too.

Nature doesn't let
Cement stop it
From growing
It still manages
To peek out
Through sidewalks
And concrete
Nature doesn't let
Anything stop it
From exisiting

So tell me,
What's your excuse?

My smile is burden with the weight of disappointment
With every let down I have been handed
Envelope folded desolation
I have learned to speak sorrow
With my tongue bended backwards
Trained in speaking a language
I might never fully understand
Sew stitching every reality
Along the corners of my mouth
Wear glasgow happiness
As if it's enough
To trick me out of my insecurities
Help me to believe
That contentment
Is not just temporary
That not everybody who comes into my life
Plans on leaving
But I am too familiar with goodbye
To understand welcome
I am used
To crossing my arms into shield
Knotting my fists into apology
I may never know conversation without sorry
But am attempting
To set my expectations low enough
To able to reach them
Without falling.

I have always been terrified of driving
I confided this to you in our second conversation
This city
Has an abundance of bad drivers
And the way the road twists and turns
Makes my stomach do the same
Anxiety takes over my body
And I become a worried wreck
That night in July
I had to drive home late,
Worn from a busy day
You assured me that I would be alright
Called me to make sure I was okay
Talked to me patiently as I made my way home
Your voice calming
Turning my worries into laughter
You told me you would take me anywhere
I could just sit back and relax
That you would love nothing more than to have one hand on the steering wheel
And the other on my thigh
I pictured it
Pictured you next to me
Windows down
Wind blowing through my hair
And your palm on my hot skin
Moving with ease
The thought of it
Almost made me crash
The though of it
Took every ounce of nervous off of my shoulders
And sent me into a spiral of wanting
I wanted you
So terribly
Worse than any anxiety I had ever known
And my biggest fear
Was the thought of you leaving
I used to be scared
Of car accidents and collisions
Terrified of the crash
I am not afraid anymore
I do not hold my breath any longer
I do not tense up
Instead I am calm
I am not afraid anymore
My greatest fear already came true
And it had nothing to do
With losing control of my car
It had to do
With losing you
You left
Just like I feared you would
Just like you said you wouldn't
You left
I am now learning
How to let go
I drive easier
Knowing the worst already happened
I am not afraid anymore.

Maya Angelou once said,

"I've learned that people will forget what you said,
people will forget what you did,
but people will never forget how you made them feel"

although the thing is,
I wont forget
any of it.
the open ears,
the listening,
the understanding that was so easily given
I will always remember
the way he congratulated me
the day I pulled poetry from my teeth

I wont forget how he made us feel-
we.
we    wont forget how he made
us feel

the many conversations that lived in his office are
now stuck in between the cracks of the walls
I imagine the dark of the theatre in mourning,
the curtains heavier,
more blue than they are usually
the black of the paint floor chipping backwards to
share the memories saying,
"Look,
It is all here underneath
your feet."

if you have ever wondered what magic feels like
I can tell you with certainty that
it is a bear grasp from a tower of a man and
a laugh that can be defined more correctly as a chuckle
or most importantly, a smile that
knew comfort when
it was most needed

what is hardest about it all is
this reality, the growing up that comes with losing
I am trying to comprehend the fact
that there are going to be students,
new ones,
who
will never know the magic that
is a Conway hug

I know
we will all be reminiscing, telling stories and
his name will be a past tense we
didn't want to have to use
this is a poem I
never wanted to have to
write.
one about a man who carried so many hearts
inside his own
the same one who
reminded me of my worth on
more than one occasion
this is about the man who was like a father when
my own was sick
this is about the man
who directed my first kiss
on the same stage where I learned how to be vulnerable
and how to trust

it is so easy to say,
this isn't fair.
but then I picture him,
arms crossed, replying
"Life isn't fair"
and he would be correct in
saying it isn't, no,
life isn't fair.
but what a privilege it is
to have had him
in mine
what a privilege it is
to have known him
at all

Maya was wrong,
we wont forget what he said,
sitting in the center of the studio referencing someone's house
"Treat it like your grandmother's"

I wont forget what he did,
what he taught me,
us.
we wont forget any of it,
I promise.

If I could crawl
The thousands of miles
To be where your arms are
Tonight
Then I would make myself insect
Grow as many legs and wings as needed
Just to be able
To get to where you are
To be able to sleep soundly for once
I would do it all
Just for one night
Where I would no longer have to share a bed
With my demons
I'm almost certain
That you could scare them all away
And for one night
My fears would turn to comfort at your hands
I could close my eyes
Without seeing past
Instead see only future
I could roll over
And see mine right in front of me
If I could crawl
The millions of seconds
Turn time into distance
To be able to be by your side again
Then I would learn to pull myself by my hands
****** my knees
Just so that
I could be at your feet
I do not know my strength
Well enough to try
But patience is a virtue
And I will wait as long as I have to
I will wait
Until I finally
Have you.

For the girl who doesn't know how to say no:

I have been a version of you too many times
I have worn your body on frequent occasions
Always physically neutral, stock-still
Denying purpose into static
Eyes open
And breathing
I know exactly how it is
To not know how to refuse
Or resist when rough palms press on your skin
I know how it is
To feel there is no other option
But to lie still while eager hands pull at your body
Uninvited lips stepping into your mouth
How quickly a tongue becomes a weapon
I know it all too well
It is iron-clenched fists
It is unforgiving friction
And disintegration becomes second nature
For a girl whose limbs
Are already paper-made
Stares burned into too many white walls
A woman watching her own shadow
And the word no never escapes the vocal chords
Because there is never a question to answer to
It is assumed
That our shared pulse is enough yes
And consent is an easy thing to ignore
When it is hardly ever asked for
Men are taught to halt
Only if it is preceded by screeching
I wonder how many silent cries
Are covered by darkness and heavy breathing

This is for the girl
Who doesn't know how to say no
For the girl who chokes on her words before they can leave her lips
For the girl who freezes in uncomfortable situations
For the girl who has played mime too many times
For the girl who has been made surface to sandpaper hands
For the girl who is always vocal
But in a single instant became victim to chokehold silence

This is for you
I have been a version of you too many times
I have worn the fingerprints on your phosphorescent skin
I have pulled off your clothing after a night of detachment
I see you in every mirror I look into
Every stained glass reflection
I hear you every time he doesn't ask
It is so easy
To forget you have a voice
But I know with certainty that you do
I know
That you understand the stillness
The quiet
The hush
The absence of language
Words held hostage
You are the only one
Who bares the heaviness of night kneeling on your chest
The added weight from all those
Who have touched you without permission
I want you to know
I would carry it for you
If I could
I want you to know
It is not your fault
That your calmness
Is often mistaken for compliance
It is not your fault
That you so quickly fall paralyzed
Playing statue may seem
Like the easy way out
But you were never meant
To stand still
We are built to listen through our bones
Your voice is a million vibrations
Received through the skin
You were made
To howl our names into the ground
Until the forest shakes its trees to their death
And no one is around
To hear it.

You don't realize how fragile life is
Until you attend a funeral
And finally understand
Why everyone is crying
You don't realize how fragile life is
Until you realize that
They're never coming back
You don't realize how fragile life is
Until you hear the word cancer
Come from the mouth
Of a loved one
You don't realize how fragile life is
Until you hear it
Multiple times
You don't realize how fragile life is
Until you find yourself praying
To a god you never even believed in Yet hope with all of your heart, exists
You don't realize how fragile life is
Until they say
"there's nothing more we can do for them"
You dont realize how fragile life is
Until someone you know
Tries to take their own
You don't realize how fragile life is
Until someone succeeds
You dont realize how fragile life is
Until someone makes a mistake
And it's permanent
You dont realize how fragile life is
Until drugs
Have claimed another one of your friends lives
You don't realize how fragile life is
Until you're holding your breath
At doctors appointments
Hoping your tests came back alright
You dont realize how fragile life is
Until you come close to losing it
You don't realize how fragile life is
Until you've ever felt
Like it's not worth the fight
You dont realize how fragile life is
Until you've contemplated death
You dont realize how fragile life is
In fact
You might never
Because you truly don't understand
How fragile life is
Until you truly learn
To live.

In the back room of dia’s basement is where i had my first kiss. a halloween party game of spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven that consisted of 8 or so 13 year olds sitting in a circle and spinning a cellphone. Yes this was how we interacted with the opposite ***. As if we needed excuses to be able to kiss one another. And somehow or the other, it always worked. We would spend our  saturday nights huddled in someone’s basement anxiously turning a piece of plastic or a different object because no one ever seemed to have a bottle on them. But still that night, the night of my first kiss, wasn’t as awful as a
middle school encounter may seem, i remember a bottle being spun, my heart beating out of my chest due to nervousness, i remember how it landed on my 8th grade crush. Butterflies celebrated in my stomach as we stood uncomfortably in that back room, and shared a kiss that lasted about two seconds. But alas it was a kiss. And to an awkward and quiet 13 year old girl, it was like winning the lottery. I had never felt such ecstacy, i remember going home and jumping on my bed, replays of that moment running through my head, that night was the first time in my life that i had ever felt that good. And it amazed me how someone could make you feel so awesome. That night will always be a memory that remains sweet to me, it was perfect, and cliche, and everything that i could’ve wanted to be, it was innocent. It's crazy
to me, how a kiss can make you feel so much, how the touching of ones lips can give you such a rush, its crazy to me how we may never feel as good as we did kissing our middle school crush. I remember every kiss that’s made me feel something. I remember every person that’s made my heart feel bubbly, i will always remember the ones that turned my stomach into a home made out of leaves, hosting butterflies after butterflies and then setting them free, there is no greater feeling, than feeling free. I remember feeling free. I remember the first girl i kissed, i remember the softness of her lips, i remember feeling something that i had never felt before. and then i remember feeling ashamed and confused because what from what i knew, girls weren’t supposed to make me feel the way she did. But she did. She made me question everything i knew before then, she made me wonder if i could ever feel that way again with someone of the opposite gender, the problem with that, is that i was so concerned about gender that i forgot that we were human, and we all have the ability to kiss so who cares if we were both of the same ***? Because when our lips touched for the first time, it felt right. It felt free. And maybe we will never feel the same as we did in 8th grade, maybe its a bad thing that we can no longer rely on a
game to make us feel that way, maybe were too concerned with titles and labels that were missing the point. We should love like two lanky teenagers who have just figured out that braces don’t get stuck together when you kiss. We should listen to our old versions of ourselves and how we felt back then, we should
remember that if two lips touch and butterflies fly free, then that’s what its supposed to be. Were supposed to feel free. So Be free.

Funny how a year can come and go so fast
I don't know when last June became this one but it did, quickly.
I almost swore on our future
I almost did,
almost

This is another Sunday but in the present now
Time has shifted unrecognizable
I bet you wouldn't notice me next to you on a sidewalk or at a streetlight or in the ocean drowning
I don't think you remember the sound of my voice but
I still taste yours, humming

Maybe you think about me, maybe
Probably not, you probably don't
Look at how far we didn't make it
Look at how long we didn't stay

Back again, summer and heat and unfortunate desire
I have come again in pieces
Full circle, your arms could still be around me
Full circle, they are not even close
Full circle, I still haven't let go
But I'm coming around
I'm coming around
Still,
Still,
Still
I'm coming around,
I swear, I am.

She walks backwards faking a laugh, a slight smile framing her face, i can tell she is not fully comfortable. The way she is clutching on to her drink and the wandering eyes clue me in to her feelings of easiness. His level of drunk is complete opposite of her, she is sober, he is towering over and his hands just barely touching her, but i can see it in his eyes. His intentions are that of someone who is not fully innocent, and i know for a fact that what he wants is more than just to form a new friendship, he wants something else. He leans in a little bit more and she lets out a nervous laugh as she backs into a wall. Thats when my voice calls out for him to back off. I tell him that shes clearly not interested, that his advances are not wanted, his slurred words are not compliments and what hes doing has a name its called ****** harrassment. He moves back and puts his hands up as if to say im not guilty of anything. After he ends up on the other side of the room She looks to me, lets out a relieved sigh, a smile on her face, she mouths thank you. I nod because this isnt the first time ive seen a situation like this but is the first time ive truly recognized it, this is the first time ive ever spoke up. And i feel good about it, relieved.
Later in the night he approaches me. Still drunk and reeking of hard liquor he looks at me and says you totally killed my game. Now i have two options. I could either apologize and pretend like his actions were completely okay or do the opposite and say how i really feel. Before even making a concsious decision i look up and say it's not a game, if theres only one player. I turn around and walk away. Now i know people would say that if she really didnt want it that she would have gotten up and walked away herself but see i know this isnt true. Girls, including myself, have been taught something else when were in situations like this. Society teaches us to be polite and nice as if disrespect deserves anything but the opposite, girls were taught to smile and shrug it off as if unwanted ****** advances are something we can just shrug off. As if **** is a game and were just supposed to play along. Girls, why do we act polite? Why when were uncomfortable and ill at ease do we plaster on a smile and pretend like this is how things are supposes to be, this is not how its supposed to be. We have the right to stand up and say no. We have the right to stand up and say go away i dont want you. We have the right to look you in the eye and tell you to *******, we are not voiceless creatures, we are strong Fearless women who need to look out for eachother because I learned along time ago that if we dont, noone else will. So stand up when you see her being cornered by a stranger, speak out when you see him drape his arms around her, if she seems nervous, make her feel secure, because if you look out for someone when they cant find the words to get away then someday they might just do the same for you. **** being polite and sweet and nice, it is your ******* right to say how you feel, dont ever be afraid to voice your uncomfort, you are not alone. And I was alone the night that the same situation happened to me and at the time society had forced me to believe that all i could do was just smile and stand there powerless and weak. I wish that someone had seen the uncertainty in my eyes and body language, i wish that someone had stood up and told him to back off, i wish that i had had the voice to speak up. And even though i didnt then, im speaking up now. Im speaking up for all the girls like me, girls who consantly are in these situations, the polite victims who couldnt find it in them to tell him to leave them alone, for the girls who are shamed for saying no, for the girls who get called *****, it is not your fault you werent asking for it. For the girl whos smiling despite extreme uneasiness, i want you to know im looking out for you. And as for every girl out there, you should be too.

today I did not think about him
It is the first time in an entire year that I haven't
I don't realize this until tomorrow
but it is an accomplishment nonetheless

today I went to lunch, did laundry, drove to the gym
I didn't see his shadow in my rear view mirror
It is the first time during a commute where I don't feel the overwhelming urge to pull over
often the speed of the traffic mixed with the acceleration of my thoughts guides me to the side of the road
anxiety blowing loudly through the vents into my open mouth until I am too tired to focus-
today is the first time that didn't happen

last week I googled "therapists near me"
I settled on a woman with a nice smile and a specialty for trauma
This is the first time I find myself familiar with that word
almost comfortable like a distant family member I am just now recognizing
trauma is something with one definition but too many faces
for the past eight months I have been wearing his

on monday I spend an hour in the office of a stranger
she asks me why I'm here and I respond with I don't know but
my answer is as dishonest as my avoidance is expanding
she asks me how I am and I almost forget that I didn't come all this way to say fine
for a moment I almost forget that I am not.

I tell her about him without trying
I don't say his name
or the details I remember with more clarity each day that goes by
she says memories are really only what we remember each time we remember them
I think it's funny how I remember more every time I do
how sometimes laying in bed becomes catalyst to chest pain
I can still feel him kneeling on top of mine
pressing body into cracked ribs into spit on my neck
I can hear his humming of a song they play too often on the radio
there is no trigger warning for the reminders life has to offer
I find them everywhere without trying

she understands as much as I want her to
she says it's really about power
I say I know
she asks if I feel like I lost some kind of control
I say yes
I don't tell her that I have spent countless hours trying to find it
in bodies that aren't my own
digging nails into muscle and mattress trying to pull out some semblance of who I used to be
For too long I have covered up with a bandage
I am just now ripping it off for the first time
this pain is a sort of cleansing
I took three showers after he left but it is only today that I feel his remnants washed off my skin
I can't help but wonder if this is what Pinocchio felt the first time he was honest with his demons

today I did not think about him
yesterday I did not think about him
the day before I only thought about myself and pizza and myself again
there is very real possibility that my mind could figure out a way to bring back the unwanted
that tomorrow could be another way to remember
but today I didn't
I went to lunch, did laundry, drove to the gym
I made it home without incident
not perfect,
but it is an accomplishment
nonetheless

white man says
make america great again
white man says it
like he ever knew America bad
like he ever knew anything but privilege

white man says
take us back
to better times and
I wonder which he means

maybe genocide
or slavery
or Jim Crow
or woman only knows kitchen
or woman doesn't get vote
or back of the bus
or don't ask don't tell
or all that war and all that death

white man says
make America great again
like it ever was to begin with

other white man says
make America Christian again
like this country wasn't founded
on freedom of religion
like you’re only free to have it
if you love Jesus

white man says
conservative with fear between his own teeth
says the word
like it's a dying breed
like it'd be a bad thing if it did
says it like he knows a **** thing
about what it means to be a minority

white man says
**** political correctness
as if kindness requires too much effort
as if it's a mistake to be considerate
as if words don’t have significance
white man says
Mexican
Mexican
Muslim
says go back
says you're not wanted here
sounds a lot like 1941 Germany
sounds a lot like ******
Mexican
Muslim
brown person
doesn't know how much survival it takes to be one in this country

white man
says legal
like it only means good
like these men who look just like him don't walk into movie theatres and shoot
into schools and shoot
into churches and shoot
into mosques and shoot
into human and shoot
tell me again what it means to be legal
to belong here
to have the right to be alive without chains
say we'd rather have guns walk free than citizens
say we'd rather save money than lives
say this country's got too many problems
say you know how to fix it

white man says
make America great again but
doesn’t know that progress
doesn’t work in reverse
tell me again
how going backward
will make the future any brighter
when our past is a reflection
of all the light
we never really had

Palm of hand touching hair touching cheek touching
you for the first time
Lend me your hips like
a sweet favor
I will teach this body rhythm and
the music of us will echo into
the bricked walls, syncing together melodies of
contact, electrical wire sparking in this blood, your
heart beating its way out of chest,
the softness, a catalyst for fire, I almost
swear I can hear the air particles kissing,
speaking, they are singing,
closer, closer

"gravity, is working against me"

the dark means nothing without
a glow under covers and
wrinkled sheets holding us eager, silent learning,
don't let go just yet,
we are falling,
falling
further into each other,

"just keep me where the light is."

I have a tendency
To gravitate towards things
I cannot have
I am in a constant battle with
Air particles
Blocking their attempts
To bring me closer to you
But i cannot have you
Therefore
I am constantly
Fighting against gravity
But Einstein once said
That gravity cannot be blamed
For people falling in love
So instead
I'll just blame
You.

I have the word jealousy plastered on the walls of my mind
I do not announce it
After all
I am much too proud for that
But I think it
A lot
Run it back and forth through my head like a car on a track
Envious is engrained in my genetic makeup
So I make up reasons why I shouldn't be
Cover myself with thick layers of false confidence
Draped over my insecurity
She
Is prettier than me
She is tall
And
Skinny
Natural blonde hair that falls over her shoulders
Wears her smile like she is just happy to have had woken up this morning
I
Am bitter
Often overthinking the reality that life is
Plagued by my inability to hold onto happiness
Not to mention
Short
And what my mother would call
Curvy
I am not like her
We do not have similarities
The only time she is on her knees is when she is praying
I do not pray
Instead
Beg my sorrows away to alcohol and other unholy sins
I have never been able to believe
In things that cannot be seen
But she
Is different
She on the otherhand
Probably doesn't need to be touched
To believe
That you love her
Your word is probably enough
But see I've learned not to trust
For I have been let down too many times
And I constantly find ways
To build myself back up
So I call her a stripper
Although she is an avid church goer and I myself have never been
I say she dresses too mature
And although she is only a few years younger
I say she is too young for you
To make myself feel better
Let me be the first to admit
I am jealous
I am envious
I am everything that most people would probably never guess
I am all of these things
Not because I want to be her
But because
She probably makes you happier
Than I ever did

You use too many big words
You say inevitable too often
You are addicted to nicotine
Smoke cigarettes too frequently
You drink too much when you do
And when you do,
You're a mess
I know all of this
But I want to know your secrets,
Your fears,
Your nightmares,
Your happiness,
I want to know it all
I just don't know to ask
Or how to find words big enough to make up for the courage I lack
Maybe a better vocabulary could suffice for the pride I do not have
My interest in you has always been inevitable and I don't mind it
I stopped smoking weeks ago and I've never needed to
But I keep a pack for when and if I need to feel burning sensation
I only drink on rare occasion
And when I do it is never more than a glass
I am not reckless and
I am not a lot like you but I like you
I like your habits
Both good as well as bad
And I want to be one of them.

You’re beautiful.
Every single piece of you is absolutely beautiful and I say absolutely knowing that you can trust me because i've seen it all.
And in all of the complicated beauty that you possess I see that you're hurting and that you’re lonely its almost as if I can feel you're sadness, but know that I love you no matter how many miles apart we may be.
785 miles to be exact but regardless of how far away you actually are I still feel like you’re just a few miles down the road I feel as if you still live in the same home the one where we spent countless nights camped out on your trampoline tracing the stars in the sky that would one day lead us here. I get the urge to drive by sometimes you know just to see what its like and who lives there and what’s inside because that house is where I used to spend all of my time growing up.
We used to curl up in your bed late at night talking about things that now seem so insignificant, but back then meant the absolute world to us. And I wonder if some other little girl is living in that room that we found so comforting.
But more than that house more than anything else, I miss you. I miss your presence I miss being able to call you up and knowing that you’d be here in seconds I miss the innocence that we used to have. Back when we'd have to spin bottles in the basement in order for us to kiss boys and sneaking out of the back stairs and trying out best not to make any noise and of course we did because we laughed for hours and didn’t know how to stop it, wed walk to the 24 hour 711 down the street and for us, it was like walking to the moon.
Those moments lasted forever and together we, were unstoppable. And I get choked up when I think about what could’ve been possible before we both went down the wrong paths, going down further and further with no intention of ever going back and we got stuck in quicksand somewhere at the bottom and still through it all you never once let go of my hand. And people can say that our friendship relied on all the things that kept us going but I know the only thing that really kept me going was you.
I remember when things started to get rocky, when we were both walking on a thin rope so close to falling off into a pool of nothing But we never did.
Because you had to pick up and leave everything that you thought you’d always need and start all over in a new town where nobody knew your name and knowing I had to finish high school with my only friend 785 miles away and it still makes me ache just thinking about it. Because I cant walk into the lunchroom knowing that I have someone to sit with anymore, because I know you wont be waiting outside my door with the keys to your Subaru ready to go on our next adventure. And even though we talk everyday I can hear the loneliness in your voice and I can hear the pain and I do my best to hide mine so that you’ll think that i'm okay but deep inside I think you know how much I miss you.
Because I love you more than any guy ever will and you could let me down a million times and id still be there because you were there for me. And so I see the beauty in you and I want you to know that if you or anyone else cant see it, its there. And that no matter what happens in our lives, I will always be here. Because I gave some of the hardest years of my life to you and you gave me yours and for you to be happy, is all I could ever ask for.

There wasn't a lot
I could do for you
With the distance and everything else
I couldn't give you much
Only some small piece of myself
And the image of my body bare
For you to keep
I would like to think the fantasy I spun
Helped you in some way
I know it probably didn't
And it was foolish nonetheless to play a game of falsity
The reality of us sunk in too deeply
Too quickly
And all at once
Our future,
There was none
I forget that in reference
I didn't have the time to care
So I stopped all at once
I'm sorry for that
I hope I broke your heart enough
For you to be able to write a song about it
Maybe melody and lyrics
With some semblance of us in them
I hope wherever you are
You are getting closer to happy
I hope you still think of me.
I know you do.

My hands are a masterpiece
Not perfect, but a masterpiece

They hold with fragility,
Move with vibration

My hands are never steady
Unless you count being at rest

My hands sleep at night
Just like the rest of my body

My hands are different than others
They always look nervous, they always seem anxious

They write with patience and pride
Holding the pencil with four fingers gripped on to it

Because that teacher in 2nd grade once said,
“That’s not how you hold a pencil”

But the way they hold the pencil feels right,
It feels comfortable

So the fingers wrap around the wood
And the words begin to appear

My fingers are circus performers
Unbalanced, walking on a tight rope

Trying to stay still
They swing back and forth

My hands are tapping to a song
But there’s no music playing.

Your hands
in places they don't belong
I don't mind at all.

You're here but your heart is somewhere else with
someone else,
I know.

An arm wrapped around me
I unravel it back to you
I can not call it my own.

Tonight my lips are stained with wine
And yours are stained with mine,
Both of ours are stained with guilt.

You taste like a lie I know
All too well.

I am not a bad person but
I have to be every time
we're together.

Here we are,
happily sinning to rid the
conscience from our brain.

How good does it feel
to wipe the shame into
desire?

When you're gone
I don't hold my breath in waiting
I would suffocate if I were to.

I miss you only on the nights when
I am alone and the days where you
don't text back.

I ask if you even exist anymore and
you answer sometimes,
Do you need me?
Sometimes.

There is only lonely and whispering when it comes to us,
See you soon, we swear,
always.

Your hands
in places they don't belong

You're here but your heart is somewhere else with
someone else,
I know

Here we are,
happily sinning to rid the
conscience from our brain.

Does your love know where you are tonight?

Money cannot buy happiness

My mother
Has a collection of jewelry
Diamonds are her favorite
Hers are pure and glimmering
She wears them on her hands
And over her heart
She has a collection
Of shiny things
They all sit pretty on her body
Glowing against her tan skin
But their worth is still not enough
To cure her instability
Or ease the anxiety that never leaves
She has all of these beautiful things
But still relies on antidepressants and nicotine
To make it through the day
And even after that
She is still not content
Money does not buy happiness

My father
Has a love for cars
He has spent his earnings
On greatly crafted vehicles
They are kept well and clean
They glisten
Shining almost as bright
As my mother's diamonds
They are fast
And smooth
Like his collection of fine liquor
All of the bottles lined up neatly
15 year, 18 year, 20
All of them rich in age
He has a lot of nice things
But at the end of the day
Still requires multiple glasses of whiskey
To wash out the bitterness of life
And the memories
Of how close he came to losing it
He has all of these cars
That take him from place to place
But it is still he
Who has to drag himself out of bed
Each morning to face the world
And even then
He is still not at ease
Money cannot buy happiness

Celebrities
Have lives that most would envy
But even they can be consumed by darkness
And fall victim to their own sadness
Money cannot buy happiness

The man who lives next door
Has a beautiful house
And a lot of things
To fill it
His home is never empty
But I can tell that he is
His eyes give it away
Money cannot buy happiness

I have
So much to be thankful for
I am provided
With more than one could ever need
And my level of privilege is beyond doubt
But most days
I struggle to make it through this one
And on to the next
It is always a never ending battle
Between me and myself
Between my mind and my sanity
Most nights
I fall asleep to a mix of ambien and panic
Having to **** my thoughts
With substance
I am overwhelmed
By constant fear
By frequent depersonalization and depression
Often feeling sad and then guilty

Because I have everything
I could ever ask for
But I am still not happy
These material things
Are not enough
To fill the gaping hole expanding within me
And there is a lot
That money can buy
But happiness
Is not one of them.

I told myself
That today
I would write something happy
Compose something
As bright as they tell me my future is
But lately all I have been seeing
Is fog
Lately all I have known
Is lightning storm meets hurricane
I do not know
How to compile something that is not truth
And truth is not pigmented sunshine
Is not seventy degrees and blue sky
It is the pounding of thunder in my head
The rolling of harsh waves in my stomach
Memories do not sit sweetly on my tongue
Every thought of mine has turned natural disaster
I never promised to be pretty with my words
Have only hoped
They would eventually evolve into something less ugly
Something I could look to and be proud of
But in order to get to calm
In order to know steady
One must make it through the shaking
So I will write strong
After the tsunami
Will write beauty
After the break down
Will write buoyant
After the saltwater crash
I will write happy
When I finally know
What it tastes like.

My fear of heights
Often overpowers my fear of isolation
So I fall
Closed eyes and full optimism
Open arms and empty handed
I jump
Before I even can see the ground
Sometimes
I don't even take precaution
Deploy parachute far too late
And leave no time for regret
I have always said
That I would rather dive deep end
And hit bottom
Than stay shallow
Would rather crack my limbs against pavement
Than stay entire on grass
I want to learn how to bleed
I want to learn how to break
Just so I can figure out
How to put myself back together
I am willing to shatter clumsily
Split carelessly
Just to know grace
So I will fall
Regardless if this ends in canopy
Or in bungee chord tied noose
Will give all of me
Even if I get nothing in return
Will wring myself vacant
Just so that someone else can be gorged
I have been climbing mountains
With the sole intention of looking up
I say
I am closer to the sky that way
And if I fall
It will be
With complacency
It will be
By choice.

How is it possible
For you to feel so empty
You are anything but
Hollow.

I tell you
That you feel like home
I ask if that is too strange to say
You tell me
Not at all
That to be honest
You feel the same.

I ask when you are coming back
I ask when you are coming home
After being miles apart for months
I am starting to miss you

You tell me Wednesday
I tell you
That is when I leave
And disappointment washes over my tongue
Knowing that it will be months more
Before I get to see you again

I offer to fly you out to see me
For a week or so in December
You could stay at my place and everything
I tell you it will be fun
You answer honestly
That it might be conflicting
You mention your music
That you will be working on it
And you just don't know
If there will be enough time
To sacrifice any of it for a break
You always put guitar and melodies
Before me
And I always resented you for it

I propose dinner in the future
You agree but hesitantly
Said the last time we were together
It was too much
An emotional limbo
That you never want to go through again
I ask if it can happen
You say okay but with strings
That I cannot kiss you
That I cannot touch you the way I used to
That the kind of touching I do
Should be reserved for couples
For those who are in love
And we are not

I want to tell you
That I have loved you for three years straight
And I have never stopped once
I want to say
That people will come in and out of my life
But you are permanently in my head
And my heart

We could go
Days
Weeks
Months
Without talking
And I will still hold you in the back of my mind
Keeping a place set for you always

I do not realize this
And how true it is
Until someone asks me if I wonder what my future husband will look like
And without a pause
I tell them I already know

It sounds terribly naïve
Maybe also crazy
But I have a spot in myself reserved for you
Somewhere for you to come back to

Even if it takes years for you to claim
Even if you never do
I have it kept aside
In case you ever decide
That it's where you need to be

I asked when you were coming home
As if the city we grew up in
Could still be called our home
When in reality home is much farther than an arms reach
I am on the other side of the country

I asked when you were coming home
I asked because
I am not really sure
Where home is right now for me
But you have always been
And will always be
The closest thing to it

You are a house
I could spend the rest of my life in
I know every square inch
Every detail that most would be unable to notice
Your arms are home
Your touch is home
You are home
And I am home
With you.

Home is where the sand meets the water meets the waves meets the crashing
Home is where I tuck toes into sun-caressed ground that sinks into memory
Home is where the weather is salted and the air blue and hands always warmth
Home is where the ocean bellows a welcome with open arms, cold, tempting
Home is where an excited skipping inhabits the eager legs of a dog too human
Home is the crow's calling for tomorrow
Home is where the voices whisper soft in alleyways outside windows at 3 a.m.
Home is holding a glass of Santa Margarita in front of a graceful fireplace
Home is a ripe avocado waiting to be pitted
Home is my bed full of past unwanted and future anticipated
Home is the bittersweet taste in the mouth
Home is a single cigarette burning to mourn loss unknown
Home is where the glow of a quiet street befriends city lights
Home is his laugh echoing through the silence of the night
Home is my smile growing with the wind's howl
Home is where this body misses another
Home is where I touch you and remember why I'm here
Home is I'm coming back,
Home is I'm counting down the days
until I am

I don't really know
Where home is
Right now
I'm still searching for a place
To call one
I'm still looking for somebody
To be one
I don't really know
Where home is
But I am determined
To find out.

We played house quite nicely
The two of us in yours, pretending
it was ours

We acted out our definitions of home,
what we learned it meant growing up,
you without a mother or
father, me with both and too much love
I tried to imitate their arguments,
reckless yelling without purpose and
you, the quiet child in the corner didn’t
know how to fight back

I sat atop the kitchen counter and
you fed me bread and lies but
mostly lies
I took them with ease and
swallowed willingly,
smiling like they do in sitcoms
happy, always

We played house
taking care of this one like we knew how to
when really all we knew was how to
love carelessly
**** occasionally and
walk the dog

You the husband, I the mistress
this was our home, unconventional but
intact
it was fun being lover but
only for so long

The key to playing house
is to never mention the future
everything is pretend and
there is no talk of forever or later and
all that really matters is right now

This is what we did
and oh, were we good at it

We played house quite nicely, or at least
until the roof caved in and
the walls cracked and
the floor sank
we then looked at the wreckage and
sighed

What a silly game for us to have played
But oh, we were good at it.

How is it that you can be
Loved by so many people,
And still not love yourself?

I never understood
How someone could wake up one morning
To find that the fire inside their heart
Has died out
Out of nowhere
Turned to dust
I never understood
How someone could wake up one morning
And just stop caring
You did
With such ease
And I still don't understand
How.

It always seems to be a similar path,
this one I go down.

strung along, hanging on to the back of jean pockets and
holding on to loose hands
clinging just gently enough to not be a bother,
this is how I love.

insecure
like a mid day shadow peeking out to make it's presence known
quietly, but not too loud as to call attention,

like a peach picked up at the market
promising sweet no matter how bruised
I care only to keep the tastebuds wanting

cautious of being too much,
constantly afraid that I am,
conscious of how easily I could be replaced,

one sided like
skin meeting ink
you will be the tattoo gun and
I will be the swollen reminder
you will go unharmed while
I am marked permanent

twinge-yearning,
nail-pulling,
folding back the flesh.
this is how I love and
I know how this goes

you'll look at other girls and
I'll look at you the way the land looked
at rain after the first drought

you'll give away glimpses of your smile to strangers and
I'll give you all of me like it's possible
to grow back complete

you'll put your arms around hips that aren't mine and
I'll feel my own expand with envy

you'll toss around the word love and
I'll attempt to catch it every time it lands
near someone else's feet

you'll carry other names in your mouth while
yours will be the only one in mine, tucked
safely under the tongue

you'll provide me reassurance without an asking for it and
I'll pretend I don't care about a thing in the world when
really it is you who has become my entire universe

you'll play me the way that I'm used to and
I'll laugh like it's a game I never wanted to win anyway
because
I hate losing things I love

you'll make me swell empty without intending to and
I'll make you full with whatever I have to offer

you'll inflict sadness unknowingly and
I'll make you happy like it's a method for survival,
like it's my ******* purpose for existing

this is how I love.
not too tightly, just soft enough for your liking
here I am, programmed for the pleasing
I will hang on like a child's fist does a dandelion
light enough to keep the stem intact
leaving room for your fingers to wrap around
praying you wont let go but
this is how I love and I know how it goes
how it will go
destined to meet the ground eventually after
being dragged along knowingly
I am
aware of how it is,
the same,
always but
this is how I love for
I do not know any other way

Like the world is flooding and I've forgotten how to swim
The concrete has become cactus shell against bare feet and all of my shoes have suddenly disappeared
Everything I chew on instantly becomes broken glass
Water swallows like acid
The drawers don't shut, even when empty
The shower wont stop dripping in rhythmic taunting, keeping me awake at night
My teeth turn to sand every time they meet
The only thing I can taste is blood
All attempts at language come out in hiccups
I am walking with fifty pound dead weights as legs
My stomach is in my mouth
My mouth is a room without a door
My tongue is the elephant in it
There are children screaming on every corner
The pavement is too slippery for steady movement
At all hours of the day my alarm clock plays in the background
Hair is forming bird nest piles on my desk
My umbrella breaks when it's raining
There are tightening hands around my swollen neck
The memory of how to breathe is fading in my head,
I can't remember how to use these lungs of mine, their function has reached its limit
When did the ground below me start shifting, and
How can I make it stop?

I am the kind of person
To write love poems for someone I just met
Thinking that maybe words can make up for my lack of confidence
My quirkiness
My overwhelming insecurities
And that awkward laugh that often escapes my mouth without warning
Phrases eager to leave my lips
I compose sonnets without thinking
Sew them on to jean pockets so that
Everytime you get undressed
You think of me
I don't know if that's socially acceptable
But I'm willing to take the risk
See
I am the person
Who fears coming off as creepy
Yet still hands out lines of poetry like candy on street corners
I swear my purpose
Is not
To reel you in
Capture you between spiderwebs spun from my fingertips
My intentions are honest
I am not looking for one night stand
Meaningless
Not on a constant hunt for momentary happiness
I want something that will last longer than sweetness
Longer than saccharin
Hit harder than whiskey
Won't leave a bitter aftertaste on my tongue
I have drowned too many times in salty waters
To know that I am more likely to sink than float
I have not yet learned how to swim in the deep end
I do not know how many attempts it will take to get to the center of me
There is no sweet middle
Waiting to be divulged
I have blocked off the pathways to myself
Not very often do I open them back up
I have a sign tied around my body stating
Warning
Do not enter
You might get stuck
I have a heart that is filled with quicksand and duct tape
The longer you stay around the harder it is
For me to let go
I am not trying to trap people
But everytime they leave,
A part stays with me
I have a photo albums on the insides of my skin
Sometimes the memories flowing through my veins pile up
And it is too much
All at once
I am the kind of person
Who runs towards sharp edges of opportunity with open arms
And then complains about the bleeding
I am the kind of person
Who can't help but repeat
Repeat
Everything I feel
Until I don't feel it anymore
I have promised myself
That I will stop falling at first sight
I have hit my head relentlessly
With severity
Too many times
But has never been enough for me to stop
None of this
Has ever been enough for me to stop
I am the kind of person
To write love letters
And never send them
Keeping them behind locked doors
Keeping them
For myself
To remember every detail
I am the kind of person
That may never know
How exactly
To love
I am still learning
How to love
Myself.

I am not the girl that most want to love
I am a siren at all times
Full volume blasting
I do not keep my words bottled up
I have far too many
And not enough places to store them
Instead
I am vocal
Wear my ripped out heart on my sleeve
Still bleeding from the times
I've had to bury it back inside of me
I have dug it out on various occasions
Only to sew it back again
I have never much of a repairman
My veins are blue
With the stories that coarse through my body
I have so many
That sometimes I worry I will burst
Fragile skin turned volcano
Lava running through my bones
I am not gentle
Or sweet
Rather harsh
And honest
I am not a sugar coated mixed drink
But
Bourbon taken straight from the bottle
I am bitter
With a tendency to burn throats
And leave headaches
I am unapologetic
In my ****** ways
Do not call me sweetie
When I am the farthest thing from candy
I will leave a forest fire in your mouth
Melt down everything in my path
And still not know how to say sorry
I am anything but
Polite
I am stubborn, taurus, bull
Anything but amiable
I am not the girl your mother ordered
I am the one she warns you about
I am more medusa than aphrodite
I am not goddess
Nor princess
I do not yearn to be swept off my feet
Simply to be desired
For more than just one night
Nicotine lovers that want only momentary bliss
You will not get me momentarily
I cling like black ash on white sheets
Smoke that stays in the air
Leaving you gasping for breath
I am not the doe-eyed
Day wandering
Innocence that men crave
I am not delicate
Not silk
Rough to the touch
Spikes that can ***** yku
But my edges smooth over
When I love
And when I love,
I love hard
I am not the girl
That most want to love back
I am not one to stand out
I am an opal among diamonds
I do not need to shine
In order to know that I'm beautiful
I am an oak among palms
I am hoping that someday
Someone will be able to admire my wood
Scars and all
I am not the girl that most want to love
I am not the girl
I am not
I am
Girl
I am human
I am willing to open my wide reaching arms
Willing to let down my titanium plated guard
Mold my brass knuckles back into bone
Turn my metal wired fists into string that you can wrap around your fingertips
I am willing to ease
But I am not
Willing to change
I am not the girl that most want to love
I am a tree in a forest full of split branches
I am not the girl that most want to love
But I am anything
But
Hollow.

I am trying to forget you

Really,
I am

I have been drugging my memory
Repeatedly
Every night
Drinking from bottles
Filled with liquid strong enough
For me to untaste you
I still do

It's funny how
Nobody mentions touch
As the most important sense
Associated with memory
I still feel you everywhere

Your hands on my skin
I am trying to erase them
Your fingerprints must be
Permanent ink
They are no longer visible
But I can still see them

I tie my tongue in knots
So that when I choke
On words
It will be on my own terms
I still cough up yours

I am trying to forget you
The way your voice sounded in my ear
Breathless and humming
I can still hear the ringing

You are the melody
I cannot get out of my head
The music that I cannot stop singing

I am trying to erase
The parts of you drawn onto me

I have gotten four tattoos
In the past three months
And two of them remind me of you

I am trying to forget you
But I purposely don't try
Hard enough

If I really wanted to
I would destroy the proclamations of passion
I once wrote to you

If I really wanted to
I would delete the pictures sent back and forth
Like ransom letters
Thinking my body could force you
To surrender your heart

I used to consider swearing
To be a holy thing
You swore on so much
That it is no longer sacred

Humans are incapable of certainty
I have bent my pinky fingers in half
Just to come close
To believing promises
But people
Always let you down
And disappointment
Is inevitable

Your salt lips
And iodine mouth
Left a burning sensation
From every cut that you made
In mine

I am trying to forget you
And the way you said my name
How you only said it
Quietly through phone calls
Directly into my ear
As if you didn’t want anyone else
To hear you say it aloud

I am trying to forget you
But it is not easy
The moving on
Is a crossword puzzle
I do not know the last answer to
There are fifteen spaces left
That I don't know how to
Fill
With anything other than you
There is so much empty
Left over

It is much easier to hold on
To memories
And remnants
Of what could’ve been
Than it is to accept
A definite ending

Our future
May be dead
But you are still
Very much alive in me

If I really tried
I bet I could forget you
But I don't think I want to.

It is tonight
That I realize
For the first time
I am starting to forget you

I am beginning to mix up pieces of the past
Like undated polaroids
In a box that is too big-
I am not quite sure
Where exactly they fit in

I don't remember
Your laugh very well
I can only vaguely recall your smile
I see it in updated pictures
But it is not the same one I knew
It is not the one that spent hours
Folding into the crook of my neck
Or humming against the curve of my spine
The smile I see in pictures
Is different
The lips belong to someone
I am unfamiliar with
Someone I have never kissed
And the once clear snapshots
Of our moments
Are now shaded over and blurry

My biggest fear
Used to be losing you
My biggest fear now
Is being unable to
Remember you
To have you stripped
From my consciousness
It is the reaccuring nightmare
That wakes me suddenly
In the midst of comfort
I fall asleep to the same songs
You used to sing to me
But I don't even know the words anymore

There is nothing more terrifying
Than realizing
You are moving on
Nothing more frightening
Than realizing you have to
Eventually
But I don't want to forget you
I don't want to embrace
Your disappearance from my thoughts
I don't want you to evaporate
Like the rain we used to sit under
With our hands open
To catch the remnants of summer heat
I can still smell the air
And feel your warmth breath on my cheek
But the reality is
I am starting to forget
And I have never been more scared in my life

This is not about
Letting go
This is about how memory
Has the ability to shed its skin
It has been so long
That I am starting to forget how yours felt
Against my own
Your marks and your scars
Your freckles
Used to be my territory
I knew exactly where they stood
But now your body is a map
I no longer know the coordinates to
I used to take that path home
Every single night
But now I cannot even remember
The route to get to your house
You are slipping through the cracks
Of my fingers
And there is nothing
That can be done to prevent it
I super glued them together
As tightly as I could
But closed hands aren't good for much

I wonder if the people
I pursue can taste you
On my tongue when I kiss them
I keep you in my mouth
Even if the sweetness is gone

I don't want to erase you
Completely
You are fading like the end credits of a movie
I have watched too many times
I am trying to change the plot
But I know that it cannot be done
And realistically
You have been away
For quite a while now
I would ask you to stay
But my mind has already shown you the exit
Most of you
Has already left me
And tonight I am wondering
If someday the rest
Will leave too
Tonight I am hoping
That if it does,
It won't be anytime soon.

At midnight I will scroll through all
of the names on my phone looking
for ones my hungry heart can
devour or savor for a moment or two.
I will find yours from two months
ago when we talked most recently
and think yes, yes this is who
can cure the insatiable appetite.
My mind will say no, no,
bad idea, nothing good will
come from this reaching out
of a hand too eager, grabbing
for purpose, don't do it.
Fingers will type regardless, a
text of hey or how's it going
or where are you or what's up
or maybe even a somewhat
unconscious I miss you,
I will try to say I love you
without saying it at all.
Holding my breath, I will press
send and it will mail off to you
so you can read my desperation
like a casual hello when really
I've packed a million words
unsaid into the few that I have
picked out to type hesitantly.
At 12:02 I will stare blankly
at a message that has yet to
be replied to and I will continue
to, waiting until my eyes are shot
from staring at a lit screen for
too much time, I will then stop.
I will turn off the phone but before
I do I will breathe in the letters of
your name one last time to remind
myself why I do this every night.
I do it because I'm lonely or
maybe it's because I don't want to
come back to an empty room, the
quiet of a bed holding my body only.
You are the remedy for this craving,
even if you do not answer until
morning, or next week, or never
I will search for you always

do not answer.
bite your tongue to keep the want in.
swallow your desperation with a glass of saltwater.
when it burns your mouth, don't cry out.
rinse with soap.


don't pick up.

I know you won't read this
Your eyes will meet my name and take on the role of ignoring
They will do their best to avoid its presence
And eventually it will be a skill done almost subconsciously,
Forgetting me

I know you won't respond
If I ask you what happened
If I were to wonder aloud what changed enough to make you do the same
I'm not quite sure you even know the answer
And I'm quite sure I'll never pose the question

I wonder how it is that no one ever told you not to love a writer
Or worse than that, pretend to
These word-wringing hands belong to a body with a heart made of glue
Attachment forms if you get too close,
I am telling you that you did

It's clear that no one ever taught you caution
To be careful with the girl who cares much more than she should,
Who will love you more than you ever asked for
You crossed a line written in red and the footprints are still there

I know you won't remember
The way your lips met my forehead when you said goodnight or how the same ones told me I was beautiful
Your hands formed craters in my back and now I don't know how to fill all of the empty
I am used to an excess of space,
Of vacant but this
Is just too much

I know you won't understand why it is that
People like me always let strangers inside
We open the door without looking through the peephole
And take in whatever the wind blows with open arms
It is a mistake I am not sorry for repeating
You were just one of many

I know you won't read this
I know you won't try to
You will probably see my name and move on the way I probably should have already
You will laugh at my vulnerability like being bare isn't something that takes strength
You will remember my thighs, the unsteadiness of my laugh, the freckle I pointed out above my cheek, my warmth
You will hear my voice in the title
You will see the word poetry and immediately say no thank you
And I will continue keeping the idea of you alive in a language you don't care to comprehend

I know you won't read this
I know you won't try to
But if you do,
Know more than anything else,
I didn't write this for you
I wrote it for myself.

I swear to whatever god there is
Out there
That when you touch me
Light is emitted

When your skin
Just barely grazes
My skin
I swear I can almost see
The air particles kiss

When I wrap myself
Around your body
I can hear the silence whispering
About us

I can hear them speaking
Saying softly
how beautiful
Incandescence is
In the human form.

Hesitant hands and
a lover who doesn't want
to love.
Momentary bliss with
someone who is terrified of
future.
Another saturday together,
back scratching,
arms holding,
reciprocated wanting,
and a kiss on the cheek in the morning.
I know he'll miss me
but
only in retrospect.
I say,
this feeling,
is the closest thing to god I know.
I think,
I will never let myself
admit it.
He thinks but says
nothing of
importance.
I, with a need for conversation,
am always the first
to initiate it.
Speaking of the weekends and
our time together and when
it will be the next already.
Professing my care and
how much I do and
how I don't know exactly why.
I tighten the knot around
my tongue and swallow
the proclamations as they come.
I decide to save them for
another who I know
I'll have to find eventually,
when the comfort has
settled and the strive
has grown tired,
when there is
not much left of
what barely ever was.
This is,
at most,
one of those routines that just sort of happened.
This is
hardly something
you could call romance.
I wonder,
how do you invest yourself
in a broken bank?
How do you share passion with
a person who doesn't have any?
How do you stop giving away too much
before you empty out again?
Why talk about tomorrow when
it is only today
and why is that still not enough
to be satisfied?